


First Fantasy NaNoWriMo: 14: To the Skies!

by SkiesOverTokyo



Series: FirstFan NaNoWriMo Drabbles [14]
Category: First Fantasy (Webcomic)
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 17:56:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16623707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkiesOverTokyo/pseuds/SkiesOverTokyo
Summary: Short Character Sketch of Gerrard D'Appia





	First Fantasy NaNoWriMo: 14: To the Skies!

The Cale Reed hung from the skydock, a long, slender thing that jutted out into the early morning sky, perhaps forty foot long, gondolier, gantry running out to it, hanging in place beneath the airbag, a violent blue against the red sunrise.  
Three figure stepped onto the gantry, and made their slow way down the steps to the door set in one side of the ship, pushed open. Its captain, Tucker Sterling, a curly haired young man, removed his cap, nodded, raised a hand in welcome to the trio making their slow way down the gangplank, took the last swig of his coffee and threw the grounds from the mug into empty sky, then turned to hug the first of the group as he reached the door.  
“Gerrard. Good to see you, old friend. I hope you didn’t have trouble finding us.”  
The man named Gerrard grinned back, patting his friend on the back, then drew apart, introducing first Sigurdsa, called Sigurdsa the Hammer by some, a woman with muscled, tattooed arms, but a soft smile on surprisingly soft features, and a tall elf, who introduced himself as Stulk, carrying a sword as long as he was tall, slender as a hazel rod, a little of the colouring of a forest elf in his skin alongside high elf blood.  
Gerrard hopped aboard, taking a cup of tea offered to him by Sterling’s co-pilot, Mo, and flopped into a seat behind the cockpit. The other two, inhibited a little by their height, made slower progress, Stulk having to pass his sword through a sidewindow eventually, whilst Sigurdsa had to remove much of her armour to squeeze into the main cabin, Sterling wincing a little as her shoulderpad scraped down a wooden wall, then bolted and fixed the door in place, wandering down the corridor that ran down the side of the ship, and into the main cabin, settling behind the controls, clicking a few switches, and the engines rumbled slowly into life.

Mo pressed, with one stubby digit, the comms channel, gave the rest of the cabin a toothy grin, and after a few seconds, a clipped female voice patched through to the ship’s speakers  
“Mooresville control.”  
“Mooooornin’, control. Requesting permission to leave, Cale Reed, License 12031967V . No cargo, only passenger”.  
A pause  
“Mooresville control. Permission pending.”  
“Control, baby, we’ve had a filed flightplan for days.”  
Sterling winced at the “baby”, and the hobgoblin shrugged, grinned again. Another pause.  
“Control. We don’t see any flightplan in our records”  
Sterling interjected  
“We filed it, it was stamped, we got our three passengers stamped and sent down, what’s the holdup?”  
An ever longer pause.

 

“Control. You do not have permission to launch. Cease idling your engines.”  
“Make me. We have permission stamped by the Dockmaester. We have permission to take off. On what grounds are you rescinding that?”  
“That’s classified.”  
Sterling was about to lose his temper, when Gerrard got up and gestured for the headset. Sterling knew that look. The look of a plan forming. He took it off and handed it to him.  
“Control, Gerrard D’Appia speaking. Passenger on the Cale Reed, eager to know what’s going on.”  
A pause.  
“Classified. Tell your captain to power his engines dow-“  
“Now listen here, Ma’am. My name may not have much power up here, but I assure you, if my superiors, my employers down south find that you’ve been keeping me and my team from carrying out our work, by keeping the good Captain Sterling and his crew from taking off…”  
He paused  
“You will find yourself spending the next ten years of your life working air traffic on the Edge, or beyond. Understand?”

Another deafening pause, before the radio kicked back into life.  
“Mr D’Appia, we don’t take threats.”  
“Oh, do you not? Here’s one. There’s a Drake-Class Air Dreadnought twenty miles south south west of this position. It would take less than half an hour to reach a position in which to fire, maybe shorter. Our radio distance is one hundred plus miles. Want to try your luck, or want to see exactly how accurate their guns can be from range?”  
“You’re bluffing.”  
Gerrard leaned forward, clicked open another channel, found the frequency.  
“Hailing Hand of the Emperor. D’appia. Requesting tactical support. On current position”  
A crackle, then  
“Received. Rendezvous on your point. Locked and loaded”  
“Roger that”

He closed the channel, took Control off listen mode  
“Heard that?”  
“Gerrard D’Appia, you are under arrest for-“  
He cut the radio, turned to Sterling.  
“We need to get out of here sharpish.”  
Sterling sipped his tea, rolled his eyes  
“What did you do?”

Gerrard grinned  
“What did I do…uh…well aside from sic a non-existent Imperial ‘Nought on these guys, raided two imperial arsenals, killed a few slavers heading down from the Edge and helped their cargo get home, and generally raised hell from here to High Dunggon. Now can we get out of here before a real Imperial ship turns up?”  
Sterling leaned down, pulled up the gunnery controls, swivelled them

Under the Cale Reed, two massive guns turned to point at the narrow holding mechanism

Sterling pulled the trigger, and a burst of gunfire shook the ship. The engines gunned, and the Cale Reed suddenly jolted forward, tearing off a chunk of gantry with it that plummeted down off into the open sky, as the ship rose against the rising sun. A few strafes of anti-air fire from atop the Skyquay, falling far short. Gerrard D’Appia leaned back in his seat and admired the sunrise.  
“Now, let’s get going south” he said, to no-one in particular.


End file.
